


Great Undead Expectations

by melanie1982



Category: Claudia the Vampire, Estella of Great Expectations
Genre: AU, Other, Silly, haventreadthebookinyears, myenglitteacherswouldfreak, thismayfailmiserably, wonderifanyonewillreadthis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 08:09:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6230749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melanie1982/pseuds/melanie1982
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I realized that Claudia is a bit like Estella in 'Great Expectations.' Each was raised by an eccentric society type to be vain, ruthless, and seductive; each was seen as an extension of their maker; each one was unable to truly love their 'maker,' much to their makers' anger and pain; and each one suffered for their own actions, as well as the actions of others.</p><p>In this AU fic, Claudia has (presumably) escaped the Theatres des Vampires, and parted ways with Madeleine, finding her too damaged and too much of a liability. Claudia goes in search of Estella.</p><p>Fiction. I don't own these characters, and I make no money from this story.</p><p>Follow-ups are 'What The Help Saw' and 'First Taste'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Great Undead Expectations

I had read the book so many times, wearing out three copies before I formulated my plan. Had anyone known of my plans - had I a companion or even an acquaintance to discuss it with - they should have laughed in my face. 'She isn't real,' they would have said; 'what new madness is this, going off in search of someone who doesn't exist!' I had to leave my beloved Paris for London, and I found that its dreary streets and damp air suited my mood. While lacking in the sophistication, gaiety and color of my adopted home city, it had a splendor of sorts, a restrained majesty, and, crucially, no one seemed to raise an eyebrow at the sight of a young girl walking the streets unaccompanied.

So much can be garnered just by listening; I did not speak a word from the moment of my arrival in that town until the moment I presented myself at her home. I did not have to ask anyone to direct me to her abode, as the town gossips exchanged information freely, with no regard for who might overhear. Recently widowed, the brute of a man having been dispatched by an abused horse, I would find her keeping in a modest flat in one of the more fashionable districts of the city.

Her maidservant answered the door; it was now ten p.m., as heralded by the resonant chimes. "Yes? May I help you?"

I gave a stiff little curtsey for show. "Good evening. I wish to speak to the lady of the house, if you please."

The door seemed to close slightly as the servant wavered; I watched her scanning the street in both directions, no doubt believing this to be some sort of ambush, a ruse to allow a home invasion. Finding no one, she stared at me, sizing me up.

"What is it in regards to?"

I bristled at her uneducated manner, thinking Estella would have a better breed of help in her employ, but forged ahead in my patter. 

"If you please, mum, it is a private matter of a delicate nature. Is the lady in question available? I promise I will not take up too much of her evening."

I knew that it was unlikely for Estella to be planning to go out at this late hour. I made my face as neutral as possible, sensing that a smile would arouse more suspicion than a serious countenance. After a moment, she let me in, and, just like that, I had breached the safety of her inner world. The girl had not yet asked my name, seeming to be in a daze.

"Claudia. Please tell your mistress that it is most urgent. Thank you."

I didn't mean the thanks, but when one is an alien, one must bow to strange customs.

She scurried away, returning after a brief minute, and I was admitted to the parlor, where I chose the least-ornate piece of furniture, and sat to wait.

Estella appeared at the top of the stairs, looking as cold and as regal as I had hoped. Her movements were almost as unnatural as my own as she descended the stairs with only the faintest sound, undetectable to mortal ears. She held out her hand, formally, though there was no genuine feeling there; she seemed to be entertaining my presence out of boredom, as if shrugging and saying, "Why not? Nothing else will happen tonight."

"My lady," I said, and she motioned for me to sit once more, taking up the chair opposite me. I waited for her to speak, which, at long last, she did.

"My maid told me you wished to speak to me? A matter of some urgency, I understand." I could sense the maid's proximity, and tried not to show the annoyance on my face.  
"Yes, ma'am. Are we quite alone?"  
A slight flicker of amusement struggled and died at the corner of her mouth, and she called out to the servant, who duly jumped, startled at being discovered.

"Go and make sure that all the windows and doors are secure. Then run off to the kitchen and scour every surface."  
Deflated, the servant left on her errands. Clever, I thought; the kitchen is farthest from the parlor, so we will not be overheard.

"I have read of you. Your beauty and your.. experiences, were most intriguing to me."

She looked at me, looked at me searchingly, her senses nearly vampire-keen as she appraised me. "Such a young thing. Pretty, in your own way," she said haughtily, "but so young. Why should a child be concerned with my life? Have you come to offer me pity for my suffering?"

The way she said the word 'suffering;' such detachment! Such style! Her arrogant pride; her mask-like face; that voice, as smooth as glass, and just as cutting! Lestat would have piddled all over the carpet to hear her, would have tripped over himself to kiss her hand, to worship like a dog at her feet. 

"I have come to offer you something, something which I am quite sure no one else in London can offer you." 

Estella smiled, and I could already imagine the effect that smile would have upon mortal men, and how much the effect would be magnified once the change had taken place. 

"Is that so?"

Any normal child would have faltered, would have turned tail and run, weeping, at the coldness of those eyes, the scathing scorn of that mouth. 

"Yes."

"And what is that?" She had tensed, as a sparrow sensing the presence of a cat, though she was unaware of it. Her intuition was screaming at her to run from the room, but she was well-trained, having spent a lifetime ignoring and suppressing her feelings. She was empty, ready to be filled with the whims of another, a perfect vessel, devoid of original emotions.

I knew that if I did not hold her attention now, my audience would be ended, and I would be escorted out by a triumphantly vengeful servant.

"Eternal beauty and immortality. You could be young and beautiful forever. As you are now, at the height of your powers, so should you always be."

The glass visage cracked slightly, and I knew I had her.

"Are you a religious sort? Is that why you seem so serious, so somber? Or are you ill?"

"Neither one, I assure you." If she refused me, I would have to kill her, and the thought did not hold its usual level of appeal for me. I could not let her leave this room unless she had a reason to keep my secret.

"And why should you offer this miraculous gift to me, of all people? You've read the book; you know what I am."

"Yes. Precisely. We are much alike, you and I. We both prey on others, feeding on their weaknesses; we are both vain, beautiful, unfeeling. Neither of us is capable of real love for another."

Estella would not demean either of us with a lie. She stood up to all of this.

"And you can give the gift of eternal beauty, and remove death's sting?" The laugh was like mine, hollow, musical, and I smiled. She caught a glimpse of my fangs, and the tiniest, most strangled gasp fought its way from her lips.

"With one act, I can stop time for you. Your benefactress tried to stop time, and failed; I can achieve what she could not. There will be no mold, no dust, no decay for you, Estella; you can go on bewitching and destroying men - forever."

I saw something in her mind's eye, a flash of the man she claimed not to love, and then she pushed it away. She was leaning towards me ever so slightly, and I knew she would waver and fall. My jaws were waiting to catch her.

I let my eyes sharpen, their fierceness burning bright. I took a step forward, showing paler in the light. A hand flew to her throat, an unconscious gesture of self-protection, and one which would afford her no help. In that moment, in the fluidity of my grace, my silent step, my steely determination, she saw me. She knew. She knew, and yet she resisted.

"What.. are you?" 

"Some call me a demon-child; others, a ghost. I prefer the term 'vampire.' If I drink from you, and you from me, you shall be as I am: immortal. Will you join me? Together, Estella, we can make them pay."

Her eyes showed fear, though her body was rigid; she didn't know it yet, but she had already begun to die. "I have been dead, locked inside this child's body, for over one hundred years. You are now four and twenty; already your looks have begun to fade. What will you do then, Estella, when gentlemen no longer come calling? Where will you go, with no true friends, no family, the money spent - "

She was fighting for her life. "Pip will have me; he will - "

"Pip covets your beauty and all that you represent: wealth; youth; status; education. You will not remain a star; you will burn out - "

"Stop."

"You will fade, and become dust, just as your namesakes - "

"Enough!" She made to ring the bell, to summon her servant, but I held her wrist, tight, tighter.

We stared at one another for a long moment. "Will you scream, Estella? Did you scream when your husband beat you? Did you scream when your benefactress made you endure unspeakable degradations and torments?"

The faintest shadow of a tear arose, then vanished in a blink.

Estella sank to the chaise once more.

"Will there be pain?"

"For a moment." It was half-true; the physical pain would be like the pangs of early labor, the beginning of sorrows. The real pain would be still to come, over the years, the centuries. Over eternity. 

She glanced across the room at a mirror, seeing herself as mortal for the last time.

"Claudia." She said it, tasting the bitterness of defeat. Tasting the name of death. 

"Estella."

She reclined against the seat, her eyes beckoning me closer. She would keep them fixed on me until she stilled, unwilling to give up that last ounce of control. 

I moved forward, took up my position, and bent to dine.


End file.
